I'm torn and wearing down
I'll leave your town without a sound
When the love is fading out
I'll crawl like a mouse
Out of sight and out of mind
It dampens my fire
***** it all out
Showdown
Low down
Go down
Smoldered and shouldered
I'll play the clown
Once the garden was green
The birds chirped and sang
The light of day nurturing
An aura of peace
Love and warmth and
Milk and sweetness
And golden honey
But a babe who twisted the rules
He played the keepers for fools
Always some trouble of playing with fire
From a prodigal son into a merciless liar
He promised and swore not to open that door
But the fruit was ripe and yet tempting
Like ambrosia of yore
Sweet and spellbinding
And barbed at its core
Taunted and haunted
Bound by a contract
And the roof came crashing down...

Not by fashion or passing trend
Nor by my standing with foe or friend

Not by whim or sweet-toothed appetite
Nor by what others tell me is right

Not by what I think I would gain
Nor by how best to avoid risk of pain

I will not be controlled by any of these
But by my Spirit-filled self, when I’m on my knees.

To peel back your skin,
To sink my teeth deeply within,
Nothing between us,
Just flesh juice and core,
Treat me to what’s yours.

Something about immortality fascinates me!
But I realized that I don't need science or cryogenics,
Because when this flesh is finished,
I'll still have these words I wrote living.
When I leave this life,
I'm gonna leave behind,
The fruit of this eccentric mind!

Like a sprinkler system in the height of summer
Like a cold compress on a bruised, sore head
Like gentle air con on a humid night
Like a heated blanket over a cold child's bed

Like an unexpected place offered at the table
Like a smile from a old thought-lost friend
- may your goodness flow undiminished through me
to whoever comes round the next bend

May your sweet goodness be my signature tune
May it always be following me
May my friends taste and see that you are good
And know for themselves your good mercy

Kindness is not nice.

Nice is soft and inoffensive.
Nice is easy and effects no change, it's cotton wool - not stuffed tight, but just resting on the surface ready to be blown away or trodden into a muddy disinterest. Nice is a damp whisper, a mouse cowering in the corner, taking up as little space as possible, lest it be noticed, lest it presume too much and cause a whisker of offence.

Kindness isn't like that -

Kindness pushes in, claws out, quick and heavy, uninvited, unexpected, taking pleasure in disturbance, in leaving nothing unsaid and little undone in its pursuit of creating a disruption of difference. Kindness counts everyone a target, anybody a likely candidate for a three act matinee and evening performance of loud Kindness. Surprise is its currency, smiles its language, common humanity its passport to lands yet explored, to vast pink territories with drumbeats of gratefulness for the opportunity to march in with regiments of compassion and to leave a signature devastation of brutal Kindness.

Kindness is not 'nice'.
Kindness is loving awe-ful.

A pause
A choice of disconnection
A slow examination
of a proposed change in direction

An opening
An invitation
A deliberate fresh hearing
A much needed punctuation

A calming
A stilling
A waiting
A spacing

A surrender
A release
A long deep breath
And an unexpected
even deeper
God-given
Peace

I left some dead fruit
  By the window ledge
In the hopes fruitflies
Would sprout and break free

  their torrid wings from the grapevine roots.

Instead, all I got was a smelly room

And grapes that hissed dissapointedly
As they crackled inward in the background
(rotting flesh now too heavy
to carry on stiffupperlipped).

How sunny it is outside. How much

  Sunnier the weatherman says it'll be
tomorrow. Atleast, I think with my last thought
Of the day,

Atleast I'll remember to get fresh fruit tomorrow.

Be,
As a love
Whom together,
Discovers
The art of sin

Ask,
Not of the wrongs
Nor rights
But,
If the sweet cherry
Seeps or flows

Approach,
A figure, yet
Merely a reflection
In fruits,
Not leaves

Gaze,
Vanilla cream
Opposing,
One robust
In darkness
And desire

Fuse,
The sensation
Of honey dancing
Upon buds,
Of taste

Addiction,
The willingness
To enable,
The expedition
And art of sin